Beauty and the Deranged
by strawberryneko2
Summary: It's been eight years since Jane escaped from the hospital and began planning her revenge on Jeff the Killer. Finally on his trail, she is ready to take him on. But will his infatuation with her stand in the way?
1. Introduction

"Was there anyone else in the house?" the nurse asked as she shifted her clip-board uncomfortably against her chest.

"Yes. It appears that both the Blalock and Arkensaw families were caught up in the fire," the doctor replied. "They said they had been eating a family dinner and a candle must have fell and caught fire. Or maybe the oven was still lit and created some sort of explosion. The cause is still unknown." He shoved his hands into his pockets and stared blankly down at the ground. The motion was unprofessional but the whole idea caused his hairs on his arms to stand on end. Chills crept up his spine like a slow and painful ice age began to form on the underlying of his backside forcing him to quiver. "Although, one member seemed to have been missing."

The nurse looked straight into the doctor's eyes. Her full attention clicked on and prepared for the worst.

"Jeffery Blalock. The police reported that his body was likely to be the most affected by the fire and that no one can even detect where he even was at the time."

"And yet," the nurse leaned against the door frame and looked into the dim room. "This girl was the only one who was lucky enough to survive through that dreadful disaster." She could see the girl's frail body lying emotionless on her bed. "Or perhaps not so lucky…" That beautiful, young woman now seemed unrecognizable. Even the flowers that surrounded her bed seemed to have mocked at how much she had lost: her family as well as her beautiful visage.

The doctor sighed and finally lifted his eyes from the floor and followed the nurse's gaze. "She may have survived something traumatizing; however, I believe she was luckier than what Jeffery must had to endure."

"Yeah… that poor boy… at least he's somewhere, (a little cliché and corny but), where he can continue to smile. And yet, here this girl is all alone now," the nurse sighed. "I hope she learns to smile again after what she's been through."

Before they left the solemn room and continued on with their work, the nurse took one more glance at Jane. _Jeffery, please help keep her smiling when she finally wakes up, _she mutely added.


	2. Just a Smile

_Tap. Tap. Tap_

Jane growled for the rude interruption. She had just lost herself in an already predictable romance novel and now she had to leave this conceived world she had developed to answer the crude visitor. As she lifted from her white cushioned chair, strands of her beautiful brown hair grazed her noise causing her to shift the pieces behind her hair. Her feet tapped lightly on the glazed, white floor as she walked over to the door. The room was a stunning color of white with a door frame embroidered with silver linings. There was nothing in the room but the chair and a stand that consisted of the exact design as the door frame. But, strangely, Jane never questioned how or why she was there. She was just, simply, there. As she reached for the sliver handle connected to the door, there again the noise came.

_Tap. Tap. _

Jane froze. The noise was not coming from outside the door but rather… the window? She wasn't even aware that there _was_ a window in the tiny room! She twisted her head to where she could see the satin curtains that covered the wooden panel. How could she have missed this before? She withdrew her breathes and began to concentrate and a familiar feeling begun to arise: a feeling that was not at all pleasant. She dragged her stilled feet and slowly crept up to the curtains that covered the outside view. She felt… _afraid._ Was it because she had never seen what the outside looked like or maybe because of the _thing_ outside? Finally she held her breathe and, after a long pause, quickly forced the curtain aside.

After a long and hard look at the glass of the window, she shirked. Blood oozed from the sides of panes and a boy stared straight back at her with a horrifying appearance. His hand was pressed up against the window and his eyes were wide and burnt around the pits. They were filled with joy and excitement. His skin seemed to have been bleached and no longer human. His hair was shaggy and black that never seemed to shine but rather just dead. His smile was the worst: it was carved in and spread across his face to create a vast smile and seeped of fresh blood. He was smiling at _her._ His free hand held a knife that he used to tap the window.

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

Jane stumbled on her feet has she tried to flee but for some reason her eyes were glued to the boy. She began to shake and felt the urge to cry but nothing came. It was as if her body forced her to watch the scene that even tears could not intrude.

"Smile, Jane," the boy insanely murmured. "Smile for me, my beauty!" He followed his remarks with a deranged laughter. He turned the knife where he gripped the handle so the point faced Jane as if it were to stab her. He thrust the point into the glass so hard that the glass cracked followed by a piercing shattering. "_GO TO SLEEP, JANE!_" he screamed. Jane could feel gravity taking over her right side as she fell straight to the floor hopelessly. The impact stole her air right out of her body as she came to. She was lying on the hard-wood floor of the hotel room she was staying in.

"A… nightmare," she breathlessly uttered. _Everything_ came to, even the memories she struggled to find in her sleep. She could remember what she had been attempting for the past eight years.

"_Jeff!_"

She could feel her heart burn for the passion of sweet revenge over the boy who tapped on her window. It was the same tap that occurred eight years ago at her original home, right across the street of _his _home.

Jane looked down at her body and see that she was still left in only her black panties and bra. She recollected what had happen the following night and that she only had the clothes she wore when she came there with. She lifted her hands as she continued to lie on her side to reveal her brown-drenched skin: the same color that consumed her entire body. It was an ugly color. She pushed her body off the floor and brought herself to the bed where her little black turtleneck dress sat. With a squeeze she managed to pull the dress onto her. She had worn the dress for the last eight years and so the fit was tight. It squeezed her now fully developed chest and the bottom of the dress seemed especially short to where it barely covered her. She stared down at the long, black gloves that still remained on the bed. With a glance, she decided to disregard them for now and scuffed across the floor to where the mirror was hanging on the wall. She stared at her reflection for a long, cold moment. Her beautiful, long brown was gone, only to be left of a bald head with a few strands that finally grew in but were left an ugly, dead, charcoal color. Her noise wrinkled in disgust. She could not bear the look of herself. She violently grasped her black wig that laid settle on the stand beside her. She's worn it for so long that the curls were becoming loose and wavy. She placed the wig just right on her the crown of her head that it could almost be mistaken as her real hair. The corner of her mouth curved in an attempt to smile but she still struggled to gain the full affect.

She slowly reached for her face to feel its leathery touch but she could hardly really, truly feel it. The fire killed most of the nerves in her fingers that she could even hardly feel the disgusting remains of her skin. She churned her teeth as she threw open a drawer from the stand to retrieve cover-up in a little class container. She shut the drawer with a great amount of force that caused the table to shake. Without a second thought, she coated herself in the palest shade. She was sure to cover her arms, legs, chest, even her face in an attempt to at least look approachable. She glanced back at herself in the mirror and at her skin that was a paler hue now and was pleased with her result. It wasn't the perfect skin like she had always imagined her skin before the incident but at least there was no need for questioning from others who refuse to truly understand. She reached for her white mask that had sat next to her wig and lifted it to her face, holding it in the air to look into the inner of the mask.

Jane thought back to the strange and eerie dream. She chuckled with a hint of distaste. "I don't even like romance novels," she groaned before she placed it on her face to cover her grisly appearance. It was time to continue her search for the boy who gave her the only reason to live. The bitter need for his agonizing death: _Jeff the Killer._


	3. Red Rain

It had been a long night for Jeff. Spring had finally arrived: the time in which the rain decided to make its appearance the most. He never mind the rain but the following night seemed to carry a sheet of ice-cold showers with little shelter to retreat to. His white hoodie was drenched and seemed four times heavier creating a rash to form on his chest and armpit area. Although the rain was harsh, he never attempted to run or even escape from the sleet. Rather, he rested his head against an old willow as he slumped down to dirt and watched it fall. His burnt out eyelids denied his need of having to close them and fall asleep. Even when a drop of rain shot down onto his eye, he never flinched as dripped from his eye making it appear as though he was in tears. He remained that way throughout the night, never having slept.

When morning came, he refuted the idea of having to take off his hoodie in an attempt to dry. The purpose seemed ridiculous since his black slacks were just as sopping. Jeff stretched out his weak muscles and sleeping legs before he took a good look at his surroundings that were difficult to see in the rain and dark. He could see now the blue skies in the splits of the heavy rainclouds and houses that appeared relatively the same to each other side-by-side. To Jeff, it was like the lottery was almost in the grasp of his hands as he looked at all the possible prey just side-by-side in their welcoming homes. The feeling began to arise in the pit of his stomach and he felt the urge to _hunt_. Just as soon as he had selected his targeted house to start his pursuit to satisfy the feeling, he was interrupted by a girl's crying moans in the distance. His gaze followed the wonderful sound of sobbing only to see a cemetery a few houses down from where Jeff was. Curiosity led him to the edge of the houses to where he could see a slope in the cemetery. People of all different ages were wearing nothing but dull hues of grey and black. It appeared to be a funeral. Everyone seemed to have been wondering hopelessly as they waited on the casket to be open for the last time to say their final goodbyes to whoever had died. The awkward interactions with each other made it obvious that they either have never met or have not seen or even attempted to see each other in years. The only thing that they had in common was to mourn for whoever was laying in the casket.

The scene reminded Jeff of a similar event: the funeral for his parents, brother, and _himself_. It was about eight years ago when his family members and friends of his family all attended that solemn event. Strangely, even students from his school were attending but it was no surprise to him. It was such a small town. Of course the whole town would be invited with the sappy idea of "everyone is like family there." He managed to visit his burial. He made sure that he was not caught by lifting his hoodie over his head and wore a black pea coat he found lying on a table figuring that it was from one of his uncles. _ He won't mind_, Jeff had thought, _he's probably too busy whimpering over the death of his brother to even notice that it's gone_. He shoved his hands in the deep pockets and wondered towards the tombstones set for him and his family. The coat seemed a bit large for his thirteen-year-old size but he paid no attention to it. He glared at his stone that had engraved names on each one: one with his mother, one with his father, one for his dear brother, Liu, and one for Jeff. They all matched with an angel carved into the hard marble holding a banner with the phrase, "they now live together in heaven," written on it. Right below the tombstones were the caskets that laid still, supposedly holding the deceased in their hallow space, waiting patiently to be forever settled in the ground below them. Jeff hovered over the long, dark, wooden casket with his name written on it. It must be fooling everyone. They must believe that he was truly dead. But he knew all too well that it was empty, just an empty void and only at the funeral for effect.

Was it there to mock him? Was it trying to warn him of his death that will eventually come? All that had happened was his fault. Quilt? Never. He refused to feel quilt. He rid his family from this cruel world. He did them a favor! The insane chuckle arouse from his throat, not caring that someone could hear. "I saved you, mommy, dad, _brother,_" he whispered to the caskets. "Sleep now. Just go to sleep. You no longer have to handle this cruel world. So just lay there and don't wake up."

"Have you seen Jane?" A voice from a lady near him broke him from his thoughts. He turned away from the sad but joyful scene towards an elder woman who wore a long black dress with a top hat that had a little veil to cover her eyes. Her hair was dusty grey and dead that came to her shoulders and she appeared as short as Jeff. Strangely, she didn't seem familiar. She was talking to a tall man who wore a black suit with shabby brown hair, probably in his mid-forties.

Who was that she asking for? Jane?

He struggled to remember now but he knew at the time who she was, but why couldn't he now? He remembered the big news aside from his dear family having been killed by a fire but also that a girl had escaped from the hospital. But who was she? It felt like a knot was formed in his head when he strained his brain to try to remember. He just couldn't recall who she was. Frustration overwhelmed him forcing him to get up from his hiding spot and leaving the funeral scene and forgetting his hunt he so desired.

He thought back to the memory of his own funeral. He could remember everyone gathering behind him for the moment to say their goodbyes to his family before they laid them to rest. He knew he shouldn't stay with the fear of someone noticing him. He sighed and nudged his way out of the large mass of mourning people.

"Smile everyone," Jeff muttered cynically as he passed through the crowd, not sure that anyone even heard him. "It's just a funeral."

* * *

Jeff had been walking for so long, lost in thought that he figured that the funeral he saw must have been long over by then. He felt the desire to _kill._ He had to satisfy the felling but even with all the possible, perfect, vulnerable houses, he couldn't find the power to actually break into one. He failed to keep his mind from wandering, imagining about that girl from eight years ago. It seemed so _familiar_. His slipped into a puddle caused by the rainfall creating his shoe and edge of his pant leg to be soaked. He bit down on his tongue to ease his need to yell out of irritation. Instead he twisted his head to look at his surrounding to only see the edge of the doll-like houses and a park. The rain must have kept the kids away since there was no sign of children playing anywhere. There were only three young men hanging around a dodge-ball wall. They appeared to be spray painting it.

_Perfect. Like three sitting ducks ready to be slaughtered._

Jeff stumbled over to the wall for a better view of their "grand masterpiece." He saw that one man was tan with short black hair and a goatee, another one was a short stubbly man with a shaved head with tattoos covering his entire arms, and the third man was a little lanky and had long blonde hair that was kept tight in a ponytail with messy stubbles on his chin. There were several cans of red spray painted, both full and empty, beside them and in their hands. Their hands were coated in red showing that they clearly are not familiar with the spray paint. Jeff gazed at their scribbled letters of what seemed to be "Shortyz." Their graffiti work was no better than a two-year-old child coloring pictures on a bedroom wall.

The men peered at their work, pleased with the results. The blonde man wiped his arms on his worn jeans and turned to make sure no one saw their crime. That was when he caught sight of the young man who was wearing a white hoodie and black slacks standing so still with his hands perfectly at his sides. He was just staring at them. His hair was pitch black and shaggy. His skin was white like bleach. There were black pits around his eyes and his smile was _huge_ across his face. It appeared to be cut open to a permanent smile.

"Look at that freak show!" The others followed the blonde's gaze to where Jeff stood.

"Whoa! Look out everybody! A clown is loose from the circus!" the man with a goatee cuffed his hands around his mouth and yelled at the top his lungs.

Jeff took that as an invitation to stroll over to them as he shoved his hands in his pockets. The men held their chins up as they strutted over to him to give off an aura that they were ready to kick ass.

"What an ugly piece of shit you got going on here," Jeff couldn't resist to remark.

"The hell did you just say?!" The man with the goatee threw down the spray bottle causing it to burst a colorful red on the cement. The whole situation reminded Jeff of the classic fights in middle school and he chuckled at how ridiculous and pitiful it appeared to be now. "I'll rip that vocal cord straight of your throat, bastard!" The man rushed him.

Wrong move.

Jeff clinched his fist and, with a great amount of force, swung so hard into the man's rib cage that he felt the bone crack. The force created the man's bones to brake and cave in on his liver as he could really feel the skeleton piercing is organ. Jeff watched in satisfactory at the man who stumbled to the ground gasping for breath and roaring in pain. He began kicking his legs as if he struggled to push a nonexistent creature off of him while holding his busted side. The desperate squeals seem that of a dying animal and were of the most pathetic of all of Jeff's victims. Then the intense screaming stopped short and the man laid still. Blood seeped from the corner of his mouth indicating that his slow and agonizing death finally came upon him.

Jeff yawned. "Man, it's too bad I was half-asleep with that punch. If only I could've been fully awake then maybe I would've given him a better blow." The insane laughter started again. His retort made his gratifying performance even more pleasurable and he began to thirst for the spill of more blood. He wanted the entire park to be overflowing, emanating in a dark red. His rashes from the wet clothing were now rips and welts on his skin but he paid no attention to the burning sensation.

"You son of a bitch!" It was the stubby man who stuck next. The man took a switchblade out of his pocket and veered at Jeff's head. His first instinct was to lift his hand up to block the blow, and then he felt it. The knife plunged right into the skin of his hand causing him to scream in pain. It was the perfect push to murder the man. Jeff thrust his head back and sprung it forward with great amount of force, straight into the man's forehead. The man howled and held his face in his hands as he stumbled back from him. Jeff gripped the knife that was still jabbed into his hand and pulled it out and threw it on the ground. He was nowhere finished with the man. He snatched his own knife from his back pocket that he had used for the past eight years to kill several of his victims. It mocked the puny switchblade that the man used. He threw himself at the man and pressed the blade at his stomach and drove it deep into his flesh as he pushed it up behind his ribcage. Jeff's wide eyes stared into the man's terrified expression. The man's eyes began to tear up, filled with fear, as he looked straight into those black eyes and smiling face before he dropped dead. Jeff withdrew the bloody knife from the man's body and turned to face the last man standing.

The blonde seemed to have stumbled on his feet and was leaning against the wall whimpering, pleading for a miracle as tears stained his shaggy face. Jeff slowly walked over to the cowering young man. He figured that the man must have never truly understood what was in store for him when he agreed to join gang that the other two were in. It pleased him to torment the man with just a few steps towards him as the man moaned with every closer stride. The man shivered and began to shake when Jeff crouched beside him and looked straight into his eyes. It was clear that he was _truly_ smiling from the sick pleasure of the man's pain. Jeff grabbed the man's temples and brought the knife to weakling's throat. The sobbing was out of control now and he could really feel the blood pumping through the man's temples.

"There, there," Jeff whispered before he stabbed the knife as far as it could go in the man's throat. "Just go to sleep."


	4. A Bloody Trail

The blaring sun forced Jane to cover her adjusting eyes when she left her dark hotel room and out into the fresh air. The heavy showers had finally stopped and allowed her to continue her search for Jeff. It was strange, the day before, everything appeared to be quiet and unsettled but everyone that day seemed to have been in a panic.

"It's some sort of psychopath is what they are saying. Yeah, no. Just please come pick me up!" A young teen was talking on her cellphone only a couple of feet away from Jane. There were large bags resting beside her. It was clear that the panic was really getting to her.

_Psychopath?_ Jane's chest was pounding from her overexcited heartbeat. Could it really be Jeff? The chances seemed to have been slim but she was at least willing to go and investigate the scene that left the town in frenzy.

She followed the rushing people who were also eager to see what the commotion was all about. The crowd led her down a couple blocks away from the hotel towards a local park. She shivered at the cruel thought of a murder to happen right on the grounds where children play at. She heart sunk at the idea that the killer might have gone a rampage and killed innocent kids.

Jane stood on her tiptoes to peer over the sums of people to catch a view of the victims. She let out a relieved sigh when she saw the three bodies lying on the ground covered by white sheets. They were much too big to have been children. She nudged her way towards the police in an attempt to eavesdrop on their report to gain some kind of idea about the killer. But something stopped her. A hand had grabbed him from behind provoking her to fling her arm back to elbow the man who was touching her. A large hand grabbed her arm mid-strike. She looked at the rude man that was large and muscular with a bald head. It was clear that he was some sort of player.

"Wow! Nice ass, babe!" He smirked. His teeth were perfectly white and straight like that in the movies which strangely irked Jane. How dare this man touch her! Without a second thought, she threw her knee into his stomach as hard as she could. The man let her arm free in a struggle to catch his breath. She grabbed his face and cocked it back so her fingertips were barely touching his eyes in a warning of gouging them out. She had the urge to rip the man's throat open but she refuted the idea. She refused to be like Jeff!

"Don't you ever touch me you asshole!" Jane spat at his face. But before she could continue further, something caught her eyes. A white hoodie ran past the crowd and slipped between the overgrown bushes.

_Could it really be him?!_

Jane dropped the man's face and shoved her way out of the mass leaving behind and forgetting the rude man who was now left in pain. She could've sworn it was the exact same hoodie that Jeff had worn to the party and the night she had last seen him thirteen years ago. She struggled to get through the large shrubs when she had once again caught the glimpse of the white hoodie and black slacks heading for the part of town where the old, abandoned houses still stood. She ignored the branches that scratched at her skin and pulled herself out. She dashed to an old house that hardly had much paint left on it, where she saw the hoodie disappear to.

She had lost him through a series of boarded house. She glanced around to find some kind of indication of where the white hoodie had gone to. She caught a glance of a door that was ever so slightly left open, swinging back and forth as if someone had opened it. Her eagerness to finally face the man who ruined every bit of her life led her to the open door. She held her breath as she barged into the small, worn-down house expecting Jeff to be right in front of her and ready for a fight. But it was empty. There was no one. She gasped at the appearance of the room. It was completely white almost like the one from her dream. She dragged her feet across the white marble as she gazed at its similar features. "What the hell?" Jane murmured.

There was a rustling sound that came from behind her causing her to jump. _Jeff!_ He had been sitting on a worn, white chair playing with a kitchen knife. His white skin and hoodie blended in with the room itself so it was obvious why she had missed him before. She couldn't move or even react the way she had always planned for years.

"What type of bitch would follow a murder into a secluded area?" Jeff pulled the hoodie down to reveal his black hair and gruesome face. His black eyes stared straight into hers.

It was truly Jeff! The man she had been searching for all those years! And yet she couldn't even move to accomplish what she had so long desired!

"Do you honestly believe that that mask you have on will save you or something? You sure are a fucking idiot," Jeff spat.

"D-do you not remember who I am?" Jane finally regained her voice.

"Sorry but I try not to associate myself with stupid fucks." Jeff eye's beamed with satisfaction from a brutal image he had formed in his head. "I'd rather watch them scream as their blood gushes out of their throats!" He slowly staggered over to her as a laughed under his breath.

"Jeff! It's me! _Jane!_" She managed to stop him in his tracks. His eyes flashed from his dark color to blue. His full attention was now on Jane. "D-do you really not remember me?" She was surprised of how offended she was by his lack of memory of her.

"Jane?" Jeff cocked his head to the side making him appear more deranged than ever with those wide eyes and the large smile.

Jane began to shake. She _had _to kill him. It was all she ever wanted in her life for the past eight years! "Y-you! You killed my parents! Y-y-you ruined everything for me!" she screamed through her chattering teeth. It was incredible that even through years of preparation, she was still afraid.

"Ah! Yes! Now I remember!" Jeff's eyes flashed back to their black color. "Well look at this: it's the bitch, Jane the Fucking Killer!" His insane laugh echoed the whole room. She flinched at the insulting name he had given her. She could feel her feet restlessly moving underneath the more and more he'd speak. He seemed to have been enjoying their little chat because the more she appeared frightened of him, the more he'd fling his head back in laughter.

His amusement seemed to have stopped in seconds as he looked straight at Jane. It only took a moment for her to realize that he had charged at her with a knife that was now held in his hand. His movements were so quick. She couldn't even process that he was even rushing at her. Her reaction time came too short as she ducked down and clutched onto her own knife, attempting to hurl it into his chest. Jeff's movements were too quick. He missed her throat but still managed to strike her mask, perfectly between her eyes. The force caused Jane to fly back. She stood there for a long moment to regain herself before she heard the mask crack and fall to the floor. She brought her hand slowly to her face to the fresh cut where the tip of the blade stabbed her. Her eyes widened as she looked down at her mask that was now broken in half. _What the hell have I gotten into?!_ she thought.

There was a gasp that compelled Jane to look at the man who would probably soon kill her. The muscles in her shoulders eased a little when she realized that Jeff's eyes flashed back to their beautiful blue. His mouth dropped open as he allowed his knife to slip from his hand and onto the marbled floor with a clatter. She was confused. What was wrong with this insane man? She froze when she heard something mutter from his mouth, hardly loud enough for her to hear.

"Beautiful…" Jeff's quiet words seemed to have slipped from his tongue and hit so hard on the floor that echoed throughout the entire room, causing everything around them to fall silent.


	5. Homicidal Infatuation

"Fuck… you're… beautiful" Jeff repeated over and over. His heart felt compressed by a strong sense of the need to capture the woman in front of him. He wanted to _own_ this woman. He inspected every part of her that he didn't notice before. Her skin was such a white color; her face was that of an alluring young woman, her hair was such a dark black and the tiny black dress fitted so tight against her hour-glass figure. Her pale skin and dark hair struck out the most: the image was similar to his own. Only, she wasn't smiling. He inched slowly towards her to ease the need to _have_ her.

"Don't _fucking_ coming near me!" Jane shrieked as she stumbled back, nearly tripping on her old nurse shoes. She lifted her knife to her chest so that the point faced Jeff as if she was ready for him to fall onto it. He paused.

"I don't understand. You're beautiful." Jeff lifted his hands in the air in the means to shrug. "I_ made_ you beautiful."

"NO! You fucking bastard!" He let gravity take ahold of his arms and shoulders as he relaxed his muscles, his full attention on her. He could see her fist clenching hard onto the knife that still was held up against her chest. "You killed them… you killed my fucking parents and made me see their bodies that night!" Tears began to swell up in her brown eyes. This woman was actually crying like some child! "They were all at the dinner table, DEAD! Y-you even carved smiles into their faces! That night was supposed to make _you _feel better!"

Jeff had enough. He ran at her at full speed. Jane flinched and brought the knife to her face in an attempt to stab him in the forehead. But yet again, the miss caused Jeff to slam his shoulder into her chest as a reaction to dodge the sharp blade causing both of them to go down. The full weight of his body was on top of her small, frail figure. He took the opportunity to make his move. He struggled to sit up as Jane recovered from the blow of what he guessed had knocked the wind out of her. He sat on her waist, snatched both of her wrists and brought up above her head. Her slim body appeared to be more vulnerable in such a position. He noticed that the knife was freed from her hand and managed to skid across the marble floor just a few feet away from them. He was tempted to retrieve it and threaten her with it; although, what he had going appeared to be more exciting and kept his blood racing.

"What are you-?! Get the hell off me!" Jane kicked her legs and jerked her body as she strived to squirm out from under him.

Jeff leaned in close to her face, his hair brushed gently against her skin causing her to flinch. "You really need to learn to smile more." He whispered as his wide, black eyes stared into hers that were a beautiful amber color. They were glossed from the remains of her tears which caused them to be more appealing than ever. He felt the urge to _touch_ her. With one hand still holding onto her wrists, he brought his other hand to the side of her rib cage. He slowly eased his way up her side and to her collar bone and finally to her lips. His blood pumped faster with each pulsing second of feeling her, not knowing how far or even where his body was going with.

"Don't touch me!" Jane screamed. She jerked her head forcing Jeff's hand aside and spat at his face. Angered flared in his eyes from such a rude response. The urge to feel her vanished and the need to torment her arouse. He gripped her jaw and forced her to look into his eyes once more.

"I could easily slit your throat, you know? It's kind of what I do for a living now. It would be wise to treat me with a little more fucking respect." He leaned in close to where their lips barely touched. Jane forced her eyes shut and struggled to break free but finally settled when she realized it was no use.

When she eventually opened her eyes, Jeff could see, once again, tears welling up in her amber eyes; only this time they ran down her face. "A-are you going to kill me?!" Her voice cracked showing that even through her tough approach, she was afraid of him.

He couldn't help but chuckle with his cruel and deranged snicker. He could feel his blood pulsing through his veins once more: that excited feeling of enjoying her sad, tormented, and yet beautiful company. "No, no. I'm fucking enjoying this!" His laugh echoed throughout the white, spaced room. The true insanity from it just urged him on. With one swift move, he released her wrists and clutched her throat with both hands. His thumbs jabbed her air passages, forcing her to choke on her own breathe. Jane attempted to dig her nails into the skin in Jeff's wrists but her gloves were caught in the way. She began to gag as she begged for air while she kicked rapidly trying to break free from his grasp.

"I will see you again, Jane. But for now… just go to sleep…" Jane's body went limp and her eyes fell shut. Of course her weak body would pass out after about a minute of suffocating. Jeff rose from her body and looked down at her. He head was tilted to the side with her handing sitting close to her face while the other one laid perfectly still next to her body. Stains of tears were still on her face. Although, he still couldn't stop gazing at her beauty. He again felt the urge to take her with him and let his body lead the way. But he disregarded the thought. "I have a plan in stored for you, _Jane the Killer_." He hoisted her body into his arms. Her limp body made her appeared heavier than she looked. Her head dangled from his forearm forcing him to lean it against his shoulder with a boost. After he situated her comfortably on himself, he slowly carried her out of the house and into the light like a sleeping child.


	6. One Drink

Jane startled awake, gasping for air. She heaved heavily and sweat covered her face. She felt as if she was lost of breathe for… how long had it been? It took her a minute to realize that the room was pitch black and almost impossible to see and sat up. She gripped her chest expecting to grab ahold the hem of her dress but only felt skin. She panicked and touched around her body to see if everything was still intact and not disturbed and found that she was only in her under garments once more. With a relieved sigh, she let her hands drop to what she had been sitting on and felt around her. It was soft and silky and there were blankets twisted around her: clearly a bed.

She leaned over the side of the bed in attempt to feel some sort of stand or at least a light switch. After her hand waving awkwardly in the air for a few minutes, she felt the cold, hard surface of the nightstand. Her hands fiddled around the hard slate where she could feel the small rectangular figure that she guessed was some sort of book along with loose papers underneath it. Then finally her fingertip touched the oval base up to the slim stand of the lamp. With a twist of the knob, the room finally lit up.

Jane gasped as she gazed across the room. Everything consisted of a maroon and gold color, clearly a sweet for a newlywed couple. The bed that she sat on had an overhanging with little gold, satin curtains drooping down. The bed appeared as though it could fit about a total of five people on it. The room was scented of vanilla and wine that had an aura of "setting the mood." She pushed herself off the silk bed and inched slowly to the window that contained maroon curtains that reached as high as the ceiling and hung to the floor. The curtains were so thick and dark that it was no wonder the room was so dark. She pushed the curtain aside by only a crack to ensure that no one could see her through the window. Through the slit formed by the curtains she could see the city lights, it was practically dark already and clouds were raiding the sky once again. She looked down and saw the entrance to the hotel about ten stories below her. It was nothing she could manage to get into by herself.

She turned to face the room and leaned against the window. The tips of her fingers lightly touched where Jeff had strangled her. She could feel the welts from the cold grasp of his hands. She shuddered at the thought of his hands touching her neck, her collarbone, and her lips. She hated every moment. When she moved her fingers to graze her lips, a strange image formed in her head of Jeff's red, burnt lips touching hers. The thought forced her sweat and gag. How could she think of such a thing? She didn't know what prompted her to look at the bed once more but that's when she caught the glimpse of a folded piece of paper on the book that she could see now was the bible.

Jane dashed over to the note hoping it was from someone in the office explaining what had happened to her. Maybe they found her and rescued her before Jeff could do anything to her. As she stood over the stand, she saw her mask was set comfortable next to the lamp; its cracked pieces were glued back together. It wasn't perfect but still wearable. She could also see the loose paper were advertisements from magazines. There were appealing women on each of the pages, models, the ones she would rant over out of jealousy. If she cared about them for the past eight years, she would've loathed them more than ever. But something was weird about those ripped pages: the women's faces where marked out by a sharpie. Not concerning herself with the mystery of the magazine women, she lifted the note from the bible and opened the folded pages. Jane froze as she read the note:

_Dear Jane the Killer,_

_I thought that a beautiful place such as this would suit you for tonight. _

_And don't worry, I know what you are probably thinking and no, I did not touch you in any way. You shouldn't flatter yourself so fucking much._

_Now that I treated you to a nice room to stay in while you rested, how bout a drink?_

_Meet me at the old bar tonight across the street at 9:00._

_And clean yourself up a bit. _

_I know that you'll come since you're soooo eager to kill me after all._

_I have plans with you, Jane._

_~ Your friend, Jeff_

Her heart pounded deep in her chest, she could feel it in her throat and temples and the urge to run overwhelmed her; although, she knew that she couldn't. She _had_ to meet him. If she didn't, she knew all too well that he would most likely hunt her down and kill her. It was in her duty to kill Jeff! She sighed and rested her tight muscles as she let the note drop from her grasp and onto the dark red, carpeted floor. She twirled on her heels with a bogus confidence and headed for the shower.

* * *

Jane stood in front of the wooden structure with a faint blinking yellow sign saying "Jimyboy's Pub" just across from the hotel. The dark rain clouds completely cover the skies by then, making everything appear darker than usual. She felt fresh, clean and comfortable that she was all washed up and once again wearing her mask to cover her face. Although, the thought of who might be behind the doors, waiting for her, made her want to look elsewhere and carry on her way as though she had missed the bar. But she knew she couldn't. She _had_ to face him. It was 8:59: it was time.

She took a long breathe and as soon as she withdrew it, she opened the heavy door. There was a bell indicating that she had entered. The smell of alcohol consumed the air. She didn't know how long it had been since she just sat down for a drink. The bar was pretty crowded for a Tuesday night and everyone seemed to have been sitting comfortably. The lights were too dim to really recognize their faces or even what they were doing, but the thought of so many people being there calmed her nerves. Jeff wouldn't be able to do anything to her in such a large crowd. She continued to look around the pub. She saw a man sitting at the bar who leaned over the table with his arms crossed with a leather jacket and his hood covering himself. She could see just one bartender; he appeared to be slightly annoyed as if he would rather not be there. He didn't look much older than Jane and had short blonde hair that barely covered one eye. His body was lean and he was especially tall for such a young man. He would've been the type of man that Jane would find appealing and probably consider flirting with. But she had other priorities; she couldn't deal with such useless fun that night. She was meeting someone. That's when she saw the white hoodie with its hood up that sat only a couple stools down from the man at the bar. Jane clinched her fists and bit down on her lower lip and headed over to Jeff.

When Jeff caught a glimpse of Jane, his eyes light up and twirled in his stool, "Ah! My dear friend, Jane! It's about fucking time! I was beginning to think you'd say 'the hell with this' and went running for the hills!" Jane could see that he had a small glass with a yellow liquid. He motioned her to take a seat beside her. With hesitation she took up the offer and sat next him. "Would you like some, it's called 'the Godfather'. It a mixture of scotch and amaretto, not bad after you take a couple of sips." Jeff brought it to her face as an indication to drink. Jane shook her head, too afraid to speak. "Now, now don't be rude. Just one sip." Jane realized that she didn't have a choice and withdrew the glass from his gasp and removed her mask from her face. She held her breath as she chugged down the remains of the drink. Its taste was a bit bitter and not to her liking but surprisingly, Jeff was right; it wasn't bad after the first couple of chugs.

"That a girl," Jeff smirked and touched her face while he rested his head on the other. "You seem so quiet tonight, the least you could say is 'hi'," Jeff purred.

Jane shuffled her feet on the stool uncomfortably and looked down at the floor as she weakly whispered, "Hi." She soon realized that she didn't have a plan. She had no idea where this would go but she had to go with it otherwise Jeff could hurt her. "S-so why did you invite me here? To make a move or something? Maybe to kill me?" Jane looked straight into his eyes, a little more confidence in her voice than how she really felt.

Jeff chuckled and reached into his hood pocket. Jane flinched as he withdrew a kitchen knife and sat it onto the table. She thought for sure that he was going to threaten her with it then probably take her in the back and kill her right then and there. But rather he just let it lay there and looked back at Jane, repositioning himself in the same position as he was before. "I believe this is yours. Try not to lose it again." Jane was confused. Why would he give it back to her even though she tried killing him with it only a little while ago? "Well? Take it already," Jeff urged her. Without a second thought she took it from the table and placed it gently on her lap. He chuckled a little and crossed his hands on the table and looked down at the newly placed drink that the bartender and given to him after Jeff gave her his.

"Excuse me sir, here's your drink." Jane couldn't help but watch the bartender just left of her. He was handing a red beer that seemed to have been bubbling over its rim to the man sitting at the bar. Anything was better than to look straight at Jeff. "Hello? That'll be six dollars please." The bartender was clearly getting impassionate with the still and silent man. Then Jane realized the man was_ too_ still. He's hood on his leather jacket covered his face and his arms were crossed together on the table just staring down at the wooden slab, just ignoring his offered drink. "Sir! Take your damn drink!" Jane flinched as the bartender slammed down the mug onto the bar in front of the man. The beer spilled over and spattered all over the counter and the man. She waited for the man to stand up and howl at the bartender for his rudeness, but rather he just slowly slid off the bar, off his stool and onto the floor. His hood was removed from his face. Blood oozed from the corner of his mouth, his eyes were wide and horrified, and his throat was slit open from one ear to the other.

He was dead.

The bartender stumbled back into his fine wine bottles causing many of them to fall from their shelves and hurl down onto the wood floor, bursting as soon as they made impact. "W-what the h-hell?!" he struggled to scream. He's entire body was quivering and his face grew a pale color in the matter of seconds. Jane seemed to have been frozen in her chair as her eyes widened out of shock from the cruel scene. She couldn't move any part of her body but to stare at the corpse.

"Sorry sir, but it was just so loud and busy and I wanted my dear friend here to enjoy herself." Jeff continued to look down into his drink with his face resting on his folded hands that were held up by his elbows. He began to chuckle and he quietly removed his hood to reveal his face. "So when you were in the back and while I waited for her, I did some… _remodeling_." He laughed as loud as he could and he cocked his head to face the terrified bartender: that sick deranged laugh that haunted Jane for the past eight years.

Jane could see it now: all the people that sat in the bar with them were all _dead_. Their heads faced down at the ground and were placed perfectly to make it seem as though that were still alive. All of them had slit throats and fresh blood seeped down their chests. Jane's hands rose to her face to grab it. She felt the urge to scream but couldn't. The scene reminded her of that night when her parents were killed by the exact same man. She realized that she was not safe there anymore and had to get out.

The bartender ran out from behind the bar screaming, "Fuck this!" He stumbled over the man's dead body and bumped into Jeff with a harsh "shoulder check." His panicked reaction was provoking Jane's heart to pound more and more, causing her body to react less and less. His panicked sprint stopped suddenly when he crashed into Jane, forcing her to fall from her stool. When she tumbled to the floor, she shook her head to regain herself and looked up at the man who still stood over her. He was shaking and his eyes were open wide. He looked horrified and struggled to speak. Instead of words coming out, blood spurted from his mouth with the horrible noise of choking and coughing followed with it. There was a pointy bulge in his shirt that soon soaked with fresh blood. Jeff's head appeared over the bartender's shoulder, his hair covered his eyes to hide his expression.

"Now that was rude of you," Jeff whispered in his ear. He had stabbed the bartender straight through his stomach from behind! Jane was horrified and felt like she was going to puke when the bartender fell to his knees. His dead body collapsed on her legs which forced her to scream and push his body off her as she attempted to crawl away. Jeff stood over the limp body, his hair still covering over his eyes. His deranged laughter echoed throughout the bar and over the dead bodies. Jane bit down on her lower lip with great force, causing it to bleed, and lifted her body off the floor with such panic it caused a head rush. She stumbled towards the wooden door. He heart raced and throbbed. She didn't know where she was heading to but all she knew was to get away from that place. _Away from him!_ She barely grasped the handle to the outside before she fell through the open door.

The clouds finally broke through and were raining down hard. Jane's feet began to tangle between each other which forced her to crash down onto the black cement in the street. The fall caused her forearms and knees to burn. Her stomach ached from the harsh blow where it was clear that it was bleeding along with the scratches that covered her arms and legs. She quivered from the impact as she helplessly regained herself. The wooden board in the bar entrance creaked followed by the sound of footsteps grinding on the cement.

"Where are you going, Jane?" Jeff's crude voice came closer as he stepped towards her. "Are you really done for tonight? We're just getting started!" He laughed. It appeared more insane then Jane had ever heard. When she finally turned her to face him, she flinched when she saw his face so close to hers and he fell to his knees in front of her. Even though she had seen it so many times before, his smile caused her heart to throb and her body to tremble. His eyes were black and filled with excitement. She was frightened and didn't know what to do. His hands gripped his ankles and pulled them towards her, clearly making it impossible for her to run. "Come on, Jane! We're friends, aren't we? I'm having a fucking blast! Why don't you join me?" He threw his head back as his laughter became more and more insane.

_Someone! Please help me! _ Jane's mind begged but her voice was cut off by her fear overpowering her body, forcing her to be helpless. She shut her eyes as she prepared for the worst. His laughter was cut off suddenly and his grip loosened from her ankles. Jane opened her eyes but couldn't see anything but a beaming light. There was a screeching sound and a running engine. Jane could barely see Jeff fleeing in the thick rain and thundering, dark gloom as a female figure approached her from the car's luminosity. Jane's mind was in a deep daze and could barely hear the girl's voice before she helped her up on her feet and led her to the safety of the car.


End file.
